My poor Little Man - pictured here all curled up and fast asleep with Junie B. Jones - is the recipient of this year's "homework from hell" award, a title his two oldest sisters were more than happy to pass on.

Two pages of math, reading and one page of either Science or Social Studies, Spelling, Fix-its (correcting any work from the prior school day) and at least 20 minutes of reading...every single night.

Wednesday was no different, except - including an hour of soccer practice - he asked that I sit with him and listen to him finish the chapter he started the night before.

Crap.

Not that I didn't want to, it's just that it was already after 8:00 p.m. (I know, shame on me for feeding the kids sooo late) the hubs wasn't home yet and I was...you know...done.

"Okay, Bud...you go ahead and start...just give me a chance to clear the dinner table and I'll meet you on Mommy's chair."

Twenty minutes later, so was he.

"Um...where's Little Man?"

My son has always been a deep sleeper - the only one of my babies that never, ever gave me a problem about bedtime or taking naps - and he never heard the dog bark or my husband come in.

"Uh-oh...I forgot the poor kids' been waiting for me...how much you wanna bet he's out like a light!?!"

No need to tip-toe, I even had time to grab my cell phone, adjust the flash and take a picture.

"Little Man...LOOK OUT FOR THE TRUCK!!!"

If I hadn't been so shocked at my husband's blatant attempt at scaring the shite out of his only son, I would have taken a picture and been able to show you exactly how scared shite-less the poor kid looked.

"Well...there goes your "Father of the Year Award"...I guess."

And here's the thing - guess who my son yelled at?

"Mooooomeeeee...you said you'd read with me...I got tired-awaitin' and...well...FORGET IT NOW...I'm done!"

He slammed the book on the floor, crossed his arms across his chest and looked over to my husband.

"Oh...hey, Dad...I didn't even know you were home, yet!"

 Huh?

That's it, I was sooo done - then, I came down with a nasty stomach bug yesterday, the same day Aunt Flo decides to visit - is it any wonder I feel all beat up, all the time!?!

[sniff]

Yes - I'll have some cheese with my whine - now that I'm done throwing up, have an overnight guest coming and about a bazillion loads of laundry and housework to catch up on before soccer, tomorrow...can someone please say something nice and NOT yell at me!

[blows bangs out of eyes and crosses arms over chest]

And if anyone needs me, I'll be upstairs...ASLEEP!